


little bird, little bird

by nymphacae



Category: RWBY
Genre: Borderline Personality Disorder, Family Drama, Gen, Qrow Branwen is Ruby Rose's Parent, Volume 7 (RWBY), also they're both trans, father-daughter bonding over Brain Please Don't disorder, lies on the goddamn floor thinking about Them......., listens to feathers by electric president on blast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymphacae/pseuds/nymphacae
Summary: oscar's secondhand voice on his tongue, plastered and upheld by someone wiser steering the verbal wheel — 'He still hasn't told you, has he?'wherein ruby puts her foot down.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen & Ruby Rose
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	little bird, little bird

**Author's Note:**

> i like to drop hints that i'm fond of dad!qrow and i blame sunny for exploiting me as the degenerate i truly am....thanks b
> 
> 'but you just said qrow is trans' And What About It

"Last I heard he was at Command," Yang shrugs casually. "It's been a couple days, though. He's still in Atlas for sure but he's been...y'know, pretty distant."

Ruby grips the worn handle of her scythe, clearly thinking based on how she squeezes and unsqueezes, lips pursed in a thought that looks unpleasant to battle with.

(She hasn't stored Crescent Rose away accordingly since everything devolved — her group presumes it to be a comfort stim so they only peer on from sidelines with cloistered worry. Yang seems to have caught on, seeing her sister's shoulders taut for death. But maybe she’s too ashamed her baby sis is now a war magnet to outright intervene.

It doesn't help that Qrow is MIA, or, sans the sugarcoating: ran like a coward when he couldn't stand the heat.)

"You're _sure_ he's still here," Ruby presses.

Yang frowns. "We're still in a war here Ruby, where else would he go?"

She lowers her head; her bangs only cover one half of her face now so her slim spectrum of negative feelings won’t allude Yang like it once did.

"Seriously, Ruby," her voice softens. "You don't have to chase him down, we all get it if you don't wanna talk to him."

She knows. She _knows that._ She KNOWS. 

But.

"I need to," her voice warbles with a terrible emotion Yang can't digest; her heart recoils against it. "I—Yang, please. Help me find him. I _need_ him."

Ruby hears the flaccid _'you really don’t'_ that Yang wants to rebuttal with. But it's true, isn't it? Anyone that’s pried her open knows how selfish and destructive she is. So if she wants to throw something so badly it might as well be some hands.

She feels her sister reach for her — it's not abrupt like it used to be. There's caution to it, like touching fragments of glass. 

"I'll...I can message Weiss and see if Winter knows he’s there," Yang tries; Ruby hears the terrible concern in undertone, the worst part of being loved. "Hey, sis...I'll kick his ass for you. You know I will."

Hearing 'sis' reverberates in every lost corner of her heart; she could cry, she wants to bask in the sunlight solidified in that word forever. Yang helps her smooth out her choppy hair to look suitable, not like she's been shifting in her bunk for nights on end.

"Be safe," says Yang.

"I know," Ruby says. "I will."

***

He is in the command center.

By either luck or irony (the latter probably), Qrow hasn't faltered in his position as general. When the ball was dropped he seemed dedicated to his work in a way that it was clearly a distraction. Ruby is aware that Qrow is simultaneously genius at feeling nothing and yet everything all at once till it's a cocktail of oddity and she couldn't tell anyone precisely if he's riding out the numb or drowning in fierce extremities.

(Oscar's secondhand voice on his tongue, plastered and upheld by someone wiser steering the verbal wheel — _'He still hasn't told you, has he?'_ )

Ruby had to box Crescent Rose up prim and proper when she was checked in, courtesy's sake and all. So now her fingers flex at the hems of her cloak, craving the purchase like the injured given a bullet to bite on.

She reaches the main center, bustling with technicians and soldiers alike. Given her Huntress status her presence is hardly questioned, so Ruby is allowed to ogle both floors of the station till her eyes land on the far side of the operation deck. She spots Ironwood first pointing to some indecipherable nonsense on a screen; the crowd doesn't have to part for Ruby to know who he's speaking with.

"Qrow," Ruby says.

Even amidst the low hums of computer and conversation that livens the room like a heartbeat, her voice appears to slice right through it. Almost immediately does he turn to her direction, eyes wide.

Ruby doesn't even have to concoct a reason for him to stride over; Qrow appears to only exchange one word with Ironwood who dismisses him with a nod and a kind slap to the elbow. The loose translation of this appears to be _'Go get 'em.'_

He ventures past the thrum of bodies and Ruby squares her shoulders.

"Ruby—" Qrow lurches forward, ready to grip her arms to lock her there. She steps back with a flinch that is instilled into her like breathing.

He immediately recoils, palms outward as if to show there's no weapon hidden there. 

"You look like shit," she says.

She cut blunt to strike a chord but it is true: He looks like he got into a nasty fight with a razor and lost; his hair is bedraggled and clothes creased like he hasn't bothered looking diligent; he's stark against the pristine uniforms of those meandering past them.

The worst victim of Qrow's private comeuppance is his eyes...they're dull, and beneath them they’re very purple, and dark, and just plain _tired._ It hurts to confront him with locked eye contact, so Ruby opts to look away for her own health.

"Uh." Qrow coughs dryly, opting for time. "Hey."

Ruby doesn't move.

"I'm...guessing you wanna talk?"

Her brows fly up because _no fucking shit._

"Right," he reaches for his neck, holding the back of it.

Ruby snaps her eyes shut for a brief moment, counts down, and resumes facing him. "I'm on patrol this morning," she lies.

Qrow takes her bait. "Oh yeah?"

"I'm going to the Mantle outskirts looking for Grimm," she explains. "You can join me."

Maybe he knows she's full of it; but even if he was, is he really in a position to turn her down? He knows he has explaining to do, why else would he be holing himself up like his status has _ever_ held a candle to his extinct ego?

He bites. "Sure thing, kiddo. Give me about five minutes."

Her reaction is split down the middle: relief and dread, both heightened to their full capacity at once.

Ruby makes sure her spin down the steps is sharp and that her boots make noise against the floors when she leaves.

***

Her grip on the wheel is deadly and drains the blood from her knuckles. She is set on glaring at the snow-bleached horizon tight as the sunrise coats the mountains lavender. It devours her eyesight so she has to supply shades from a compartment for the time being. The bad mood she's been brewing in for days is gonna blow the lid any time now; she knows this and it _sucks._

Qrow is also set on ignoring her. He pointedly keeps his eyes from wandering too loosely, and his arm is propped against the chilly window.

('He should know better. This has gone on for much too long.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Oh, dear. Ruby Rose, I'm very sorry to tell you this, because I assure you that he will not say anything — he'll die on this hill. But I will not.')

 _He should know better,_ Ruby bounces this around her brain. _This has gone on too long._

They're approaching the Mantle's wall relatively soon — and then what? Go back, pay penance for Ruby's lie, return the stolen truck… _and THEN what?_ Supposedly things fall back to normal when she's done with this little temper tantrum of hers.

_YOU should know better._

Ruby boots the breaks so her and Qrow launch forward; he hadn't time to prepare for impact so he busts his chest against the headboard and shouts with protest.

She unbuckles, flinging her sunglasses to the side.

"Wait—!"

She stumbles out of the Atlesian vehicle like it's been engulfed in flames; the cold immediately spikes into her heart like icicle daggers so she gives a 'whoof’ sound and wraps her arms around her chest, hunching over with a shudder.

Better than being with...

" _Ruby!_ " Ugh, Ruby hears the slam of a car door coupled with the grit of hasty footsteps crunching in snow.

"I changed my mind!" She hunches over and attempts to fold in on herself — sinking to the floor would mean dampening her tights. "Go away!"

"I'm not gonna freeze out here and neither should you," Qrow's sentence is strewn with harsh pants and she sees the cords of his throat protruding. "Get back inside."

"I _looked up_ to you," her voice shrinks in her throat; she swallows harshly against the mountainscape forging up her chest, up the shoulderblades, into the back of her eyes. "I— I wanted to _be_ you. Not like this. You ruined _everything._ "

He grabs her properly this time, tugging her to him.

"Don't touch me!!" Ruby yanks herself away; the cold stabs her lungs as her breathing gets slimmer. "Leave me alone!”

She can feel him grappling over what to do now, meanwhile the casual snowflakes are beginning to speckle her cloak white.

"We need to get back to the truck," Qrow finally says, gazing steadfast around the horizon. "If there's any Grimm out here we're looking to attract some with you like this."

"I wanna go back to Atlas.”

"We _can,_ ” he coaxes. "But right now let's get you out of the cold."

She'd rather freeze.

But freezing means dying, so alas: " _Ffffffine,_ " she snarls through chattering teeth.

Qrow looks relieved, dropping his shoulders. She still won't have her touch him but she does sense that her hand is hovering on her backside, leading her back to the truck.

***

The warmer shift in scenery doesn't cure Ruby's trembling. She realizes with an internal grimace that this is just a symptom of panic and not hypothermia.

She sits on some export crates near the back of the massive truck, crossing her arms and feeling pathetic — it's a relief there's no one here to see her; it's hard enough grinning and bearing it with three teammates who look up to you and share a room with you and have their own mental wildfires to put out.

Qrow walks back to her quickly, handing off a water bottle he'd snagged from storage; even having twisted the cap off. Ruby takes it with wooden hands, squeezing it a little too tight so some of it trickles out. She gulps it down — missing breakfast equals an empty stomach.

"Got you this too," she now sees Qrow is holding something in the other arm: a sort of emergency blanket. "It's weighted. Put it on your lap."

"Why."

"Just trust me on this one." Without her permission Qrow unravels the blanket and throws it over her lap, pulling it up some. He's right — it's definitely got some weight to it. Something about it is reassuring; she supposes it's like getting a hug but for the legs.

"Thank you..." Ruby wipes her mouth and ferries the half-empty bottle back to Qrow who reseals it without prompt. He sets it down beside him and she leans forward, arm anchoring her sore stomach.

Qrow makes to pat her back — then thinks about it and settles the hand behind her instead, leaning back some. "Feeling better?"

"Heh..." Ruby plays with her apparel a moment, listless and tugging on whatever is available. "As well as I can be..."

The clouds in her head part a little bit — she's very glad she didn't decide to freeze and die. The problem now is that it's all ramming into her like a runaway train: Oh, right. She called this meeting for a reason.

"Your hair looks different," Qrow remarks, clutching onto conversation.

Primally does Ruby reach for the red ends of the hair in question. She'll admit out of others' vicinity that it’s definitely _different,_ only because she can't trust making stray remarks on her physique without prepping for backlash, splaying out all of herself for others to degrade. Her heart may be steely but the skin enclosing it is fragile and makes room for wounds.

Ruby twists the locks pressed between her fingers. "Yeah, I...cut it."

"It looks nice."

Something in her clamps shut. She drops her hand like an anchor and grits out, "I wanted to look like you."

It goes quiet.

Qrow's tone has plummeted. "Oh."

"Yeah." Ruby rests her elbows forward onto her knees, ready to vomit or flee. "It's whatever, though. I can always grow it back out."

His hands meet his lap and wind together. Ruby knows now that nothing will come out of Qrow Branwen voluntarily, nothing he wants to speak on anyway.

"I'm going to ask you some things," Ruby slaps the words together and it's enunciated in all the wrong places. "You will say yes or no."

Qrow appears to contemplate this; she won't turn to brave his expression because whatever he's wearing is going to thrum a hollow pulse in her, where the shame should reside.

"Okay," he says. Terribly blank and calculated.

Ruby leans forward to encourage the accent of her collarbone, fastening her remors and gripping her seat.

"Okay," she says back. "Is Summer my mom."

"Yes."

"Did you love her?"

"No."

Ruby can't help it; she whips upright. " _No?_ "

Qrow turns away from her. "It's..." _complicated,_ Ruby internally groans. "Complicated." Yep. "We were messy, kid. Team STRQ, I mean. Just...throwing things at the wall and seein' what sticks, y'know?"

"That's stupid." she snaps and it shocks him. "This is _all_ stupid.”

"I...yeah," he sighs, depleted. "Tai and Summer, though. That was as real as it got with us."

"So I was an accident?"

Qrow hesitates.

Ruby smears her inner wrist upside her face; she wants to cry or shout or throw up or bolt back out into the cold and smash Crescent Rose's blade into the first living thing she can find. But she can't decide which is better to do, and if she did any of that her reputation of plucky, reliable heroine would surely be shattered. Can't risk it.

Instead she crumples up the awfulness like tinfoil and shelves it away for later, whenever later will be. And she takes a breath, holding it.

Her body surrenders before her heart can; she plummets into Qrow's lap sideways like it's a prison sentence. The bad things in her settle on her side like silt in water, and she sits there, feeling the muscles of his legs pulsating, holding her weight.

To dilute more emptiness into this thrashing beast in her chest is gonna take a _lot_ more effort. And she's tired right now, she hasn't slept in a week following the curtain-unfolding, rug-pulling, life-shattering events.

"You smell bad," she muffles into his pants.

"Heh." She feels his scythe-weathered hand settle atop her head, delicate but present.

Her hands curl into fists. "You didn't even _tell me._ "

Pause. "I didn't, no."

" _Ozpin_ told me."

"I was there."

She adjusts her position to where she can glare at the walls till her silver eyes kick in and melt everything clean off the map — maybe that's not how it works, but a gal can certainly dream.

The other hand loosely clasps her waist; he holds her as best he can, but she doesn't feel caged in.

"Ruby," he says. "It's not your fault."

"Stop," she clenches her eyes shut.

Qrow does but extremely reluctantly — Ruby doesn't have to know him or look at him to know that much.

...What else is she supposed to _say?_ There's no protocol to memorize, no strategy to discuss amongst peers. There's no handbook to this, or homework to beat the knowledge into her brain. How does one approach the predicament of a second party telling you casually that your lineage was crooked?

Somewhere in her, she acknowledges the swelling of the sunlight up ahead, through the windows and slinking towards her feet.

Qrow above her shuffles and she feels the blanket be smothered back over her — seems it was close to falling off.

"Do you have any memories of me?" Ruby asks at last, hoarse. "As a baby?"

He sort of scoffs but it's more kickback than genuine. "Tai was better with that sorta thing. Y'know he had you longer than I did, he probably has better stories."

"I don't wanna hear them from him." Her rattled nerves make a comeback.

"Hey," Qrow asserts. "I know this is all big. But don't throw Tai under the bus yet — he took you in without question, he does love you."

"You could've loved me instead."

"Kid, of _course_ I—"

She wipes her face haphazardly; it feels like all her nerves are peeled out in the open.

This happens to other kids, this fairy tale plot reveal. It's supposed to be neat and tidy and wrapped in a bow. This is supposed to make sense; in hindsight of _course_ he's her father. He stepped in where her father — Taiyang— did not. She remembers their training, her always being greeted kindly on his visits. These memories, they're supposed to be _nicer_ now, lovely and new. Instead they just feel soiled; the stability of them is taken away.

Maybe an hour passes or two hours or thirty minutes.

She swallows down nails, cutting the quiet. "Dad."

Qrow tenses up for the most miniscule of moments but it doesn't surpass her.

His response is thinner than thread. "Yeah?"

Ruby would shrug if his thigh wasn't chaining one of her shoulders to the seat. "I just...wanted to test it out."

"Alright." He sounds strangled still; it's difficult to dismiss when every word is pulling a noose tighter. "...Ruby."

"Dad."

"Ruby."

"Dad."

"Ruby."

"Dad..."

"Ruby?"

"D— I— I can't," she glares at nothing till it glasses over. "It won't stick. I can't do it. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me."

"Just Qrow is fine," he replies — he sounds much too patient. His fingers dance in her hair. "I get it, ya' know? It's kinda weird to hear you say it anyway."

"Did you..." she teeters on the verge of implosion. "Did you just not want me?"

"No!" it's the quickest she's ever heard him yell. "No, no, _never._ That was never it. I'd have never done it if I knew, Ruby. I was _stupid._ ”

"But I shouldn't—" She fishes for words, for approval. She shouldn't be _so much,_ it's hard to narrow it down.

"I shouldn't be here."

That fits.

"Ruby Rose. _No._ "

She hates being pleased at his voice shattering. He keens forward like there's a wound in her guts, and she feels him collapse in over her, his grip tightening. He smothers her as safe as a secret; the great hurl of his body is unmistakable that he's sheltering a decade of tears that just won't evict.

"Ruby, gods," Ruby feels more than hears Qrow speaking: it’s audibly veering on a sob. "I did this to you, I gave you this— this _mess._ Gods, kid — sweetie — I'm so, so sorry, I thought my misfortune would mess you up...turns out," his laugh here is chipped, "I didn't even need it."

Ruby can't help it; she wraps her arms around his war-chiseled one, locking her with him; they drown in unison.

The next noise that falls from her throat feels ripped out of her. She bristles hot with That Something again.

"I need you so bad," shit she's crying too, "I don't want to but I _do._ I just...I don't know what I'm doing, I'm so scared…”

"Oh, baby girl." His grip tightens around her. "I _know._ "

She wants to argue but there's a hitch to how he says it that tells her he _does_ know: he knows this emptiness in particular, where things go to privately rot.

"Can you just," Ruby tries, voice catching desperation, “tell me I'm worth it."

"Of _course_ you are," he lifts her head a bit to clutch her tighter; she buries her eyes into the curve of his elbow. He does smell really bad.

"Was it my silver eyes?" she asks.

"It was me."

"Was I bad?"

"You were the best thing we ever saw."

" _Am_ I bad?"

She feels something damp prickling onto her hair, matting it a little.

"You're the _best damn thing_ this world has to offer," he repeats. "If you can't believe me...believe everyone else, _please._ "

"I _can't._ "

Ruby nearly starts feeling the sensation of a kiss pressed to her hair. He offers nothing else — maybe he's aware the assurances will pierce nothing, or maybe he's got his nihilistic streak to uphold and can't offer a solid piece of advice to save his life.

 _He_ may be allowed to cry, but she is not. Ruby pries herself away from Qrow's hold — which, again, she is free to do. His grip goes slack immediately when she sidles back to her original spot, slumped over.

Qrow lifts his knee up and props his elbow on it; Ruby sees the relief sagging his legs as the pins and needles are pulled out one slight stretch at a time.

The Atlesian cold is hard to tackle, obviously; but when the sunlight hits Ruby's face, she feels the absolute warmth of it like she would anywhere else on Remnant.

No Grimm attacks yet, at least. The Huntsman part of her kicks into gear and begins to grease up, weighing out the _what next._

"Hey, Ruby." Qrow peeks over as though he knows she's contemplating getting up. His eyes are waterlogged and stained pink, so she probably looks as sorry as him.

She looks back. "Hey, Qrow."

He gives a barely-qualified smile. "あなたは私の娘です."

Ugh. Right, old tribe language. The one trait she's apparently compensated to via Branwen's family tree, when all this time she was a black sheep in the Xiao Long ranks.

"我听不懂你的话," Ruby responds in turn. "Erm...对不起?"

It's so not fair that he understands her and not vice versa; his eyes grow instantly soft and that blooms a very odd reaction in her.

"私はあなたが学ぶのを手伝うことができます."

"好的."

"愛してる."

"真是好样的??"

He laughs and she glares on. Ruby pouts. "Well, whatever you gotta say to me you can say it here!"

Qrow's laughter deteriorates with time, but he still looks extremely fond. His expression is beaten to hell but, Ruby notices, there's a lighter air to how he carries himself. The burden of cloak-and-dagger is gone.

He leans forward, cups her face a bit, kisses between the center of her eyes for a brief moment. Ruby melts into it without question, mostly because she's been so starved of kinder touches.

"Someday you'll get it," he says before pulling back. "You're a smart girl."

***

Despite her insistence/nagging/pleading, Qrow drives back. He nudges her into sitting and continuously hydrating until the shaking leaves her system completely, and Ruby makes a display of looking grouchy about it.

They arrive back by noon with hoards of patrolmen swarming the vehicle that wasn’t set for course. Ruby was promised a stern talking-to later ("James is gonna let you off easy, don't worry about it," Qrow told her when they were out of earshot) and out they were rushed.

Qrow offers to escort her back and she remembers him holding her in place like she belongs nestled up to his chest. And that sucks too, but maybe she wants to indulge in some sort of instinctual protection against herself — why not, right?

They walk back to Ruby's station and are deliberately distant so that one could wedge themselves between them no problem. The silence between them is tossed around in Ruby's mind tenfold.

She starts thinking:

She’s _still_ a prodigy, offspring of speculator myths, but not in the space that feels like it _fits._ She remembers popping her shoulder from its socket and crying and crying until Yang held her hand and shoved it back in. That's— probably the more accurate way she feels now. This is just taking a longer time to slot into place, and Yang can’t do it for her this time around.

(Not like there aren't a hundred _other_ bones left to be relocated, the ones originating from, oh, maybe being put in charge of Team RWBY? Maybe from the death of Summer Rose? But that's a future Ruby Rose predicament.)

But she can fix this, probably. Most likely. On her own, of course — JNPR and WBY, what are they gonna do about it? They're just cogs right alongside her, if they wanna keep the system running they gotta _move._

Even then, _knowing_ this, she'd like to scream very much.

Qrow relieves her of overthinking.

"So, when you were a couple months old," he says without pause in pace, "I was still trying to rough it out till I gave you to Tai. And, I had trouble doing things with you since I thought taking you anywhere would mean..." he swipes a finger across his throat and Ruby swallows. "When you went outside I just handed you off to Summer."

"You just always wanted to be doing things. You had a knack for pulling clothing, I remember that," he chuckles. "Tore up my cape, actually. And you _really_ liked making a scene — I'd have to basically tie you to your crib for naps. And I remember: we were on the couch, and you were, y'know, doing as babies do.

"And you reached out and just kinda," he emphasizes with a gesture, "smashed my face in your little hands. It was cute — well, _was._ Then you kept doing it and started full-on thwacking me. Left a nasty bruise once."

Ruby thickly chuckles at that. "Haha, yeah...I feel that's more of Yang's style though."

"You'd be surprised," Qrow rebukes in earnest.

Ruby looks away with her lips riding up her cheeks, feeling bashful.

"It'd take a lot to keep you outta trouble," he admits, albeit wool-soft. "Though when I gave you to Tai and he needed you to sleep, he'd give you to me. And you just went," a curt snap of the fingers, " _bam,_ out like a light."

Ruby is still smiling but it wanes a little. She asks, "What about Mom?"

"What about her?"

"Did she, y'know," Ruby stumbles and her cheeks flush. "Did she like me too?"

Qrow's minute pause gives way for speculation. "Summer took some time, I think. You gotta understand, STRQ had a lotta...rough Patches,” (“ _Ugh,_ ” Ruby supplies). “I really don't know how we pulled through it. But she came around _hard_ after caring for Yang a bit. And after..."

"After you left me."

"I— Sure."

"...What were my first words?"

"Wasn't there for that. Apparently it was 'yam' — obviously you were trying to say Yang. It was cute."

They're nearing her team's designated room now, Ruby notes. The corridors are crossing into familiarity. 

"...Summer handed you off to me first," he goes on, somber and wispy as smoke. "I was exhausted, so she had to support my arms a bit. And I remember you just had the roundest little face. You just kept looking around taking everything in.”

Ruby folds in a lip and sucks it till it's beet-red.

"I knew immediately that I needed to get my hands off you."

"Qrow."

"Right, sorry. That's just the old man cynicism talking." His deprecating laugh is at odds with the rest of his stature. "Point is, Ruby, I had your back from the beginning.”

"I know," Ruby says on instinct.

"So." They reach the point where her room awaits up front. Qrow dares a sidelong glance. "What now?"

Ruby ponders it. She'd like to forgive him — _of course she would_ — but...

"I think," she tests speaking; the Something Awful flails in her again and tries to escape. "I think I'm going to practice being angry for a bit. Just for a while."

Qrow's stature doesn't sway, but Ruby _is_ a smart girl, and she knows him, so she spots it: that sharp flinch in his gaze.

He sighs. "That's fair enough. I'll...try to get better at the whole," airquotes here, "'talking about it' thing."

"Best of luck," Ruby grins.

"Hardy har har."

She's right at her door now but she hesitates going in, pressing her hand to the door. Standing still with her back to him.

"Say," Qrow tries, "I heard through the grapevine that the Atlas military is looking for some top-notch engineers. Seems right up your alley, do you wanna check into it?"

Her smile in turn is stretched. "Thanks, um...Qrow. But, it doesn't seem very practical, y'know? My team needs me more."

Qrow blinks, lowering his brows. "You're not even gonna consider it?"

"Why would I?" she shrugs mildly, her smile crimping. "I haven't wanted to work on any kinda weaponry in a long time. Did you not notice?"

He looks like he might say something but, as per protocol, keeps his concern under lock and key. So much for the whole 'talking about it' resolution.

Ruby opens the door.

"Maybe if you want to be my dad, you can start by getting to know me a little bit more," Ruby says over her shoulder, deceptively friendly. "It'd be nice if someone did."

She walks to where he, for once, can't follow her.

**Author's Note:**

> ruby is speaking chinese
> 
> @ all dad!Qrow lovers Please Contact Me I’ll give u my email (I won’t give u my email)


End file.
